However, whether it could fly or not, Jiang Xia had no intention of letting go of the ghost he was holding.
This was the first adult male ghost he'd ever encountered. If things went well, he could take this guy out to do righteous deeds and exorcise evil in the future… instead of relying on the kid ghosts and Miyano Akemi's poor, overused remains.
The only problem? The wings. A little tricky to deal with. He had no idea how they'd turn out when generating a puppet later.
As Jiang Xia spaced out, the monk ghost peeked out from behind the hand sanitizer bottle and waved a hand in front of his face.
Jiang Xia blinked. Ah. He knew what this ghost was trying to say.
—The youngest monk here, Xiunian, was actually the ghost's younger brother. Xiunian never believed his brother had committed suicide, so he'd gone undercover at the temple six months ago to investigate the truth.
For half a year, Xiunian worked tirelessly, finally piecing together the how, but he still didn't know who did it.
But tonight… the old abbot's behavior had been especially suspicious. Xiunian sensed something was off and planned to confront him.
The ghost, seeing his little brother show up so suddenly, panicked. The old monk was drunk, and with how much he loved to brag while sloshed, he might've accidentally confessed. What if Xiunian got impulsive and did something reckless?
So the ghost had rushed over to Jiang Xia, begging for help.
Jiang Xia pushed aside the bottle between him and the ghost, gave it a friendly headpat, and tugged on its wings.
"Sign a contract with me. I'll help you out."
…
It was deep into the night.
The old abbot had lit a candlestick with great enthusiasm, poured himself a generous drink, and was now thoroughly wasted.
Across the tiny table, Xiunian sat stiffly, glaring. He'd finally figured out the truth.
His mood was a complicated soup of rage, grief, and a sprinkle of regret—if he'd just asked about this while the master was drunk six months ago, maybe he wouldn't have had to play detective for half a year...
He stayed silent for a long moment, then finally squeezed out,
"Please turn yourself in."
The old monk, oblivious to Xiunian's quiet fury, raised his cup and laughed,
"Turn myself in with no evidence? Why would I do that? And besides, ever since that whole incident, we've become the famous 'Fog Tengu Haunted Temple'! Pity things have gone downhill lately… If only we could recreate the glory days…"
He shook his head with exaggerated sorrow and reached for the wine jug again.
Xiunian scowled and reached for a coil of rope beside him.
Then—bam. Both froze.
A strange sound echoed from the courtyard.
They turned simultaneously toward the door. Shadows flickered on the sliding paper panel, thrown there by the courtyard light.
Outside, scraps of paper fluttered in the air, swirling into a humanoid shape.
At that exact moment, lightning flashed, illuminating the form.
The old monk squinted—and sobered up real fast. That… that figure had wings. Giant ones.
He rubbed his eyes. No, surely he was seeing things. Maybe it was just a weirdly shaped tree outside?
But then… a hand slipped through the gap in the door and slowly pushed it open.
A gust of wind whooshed in, making the candle flame flicker wildly. Another lightning bolt flashed—and the black wings behind the person spread wide, covering the entire doorway.
The uninvited guest looked down at the pale, trembling old monk and said softly,
"Bringing back the temple's peak popularity is easy—you just need one more victim of the 'Fog Tengu'."
In the flickering candlelight, the old monk saw the creature's eyes.
They looked just like his apprentice's—the one he'd framed and hanged two years ago, pinning the murder on the "Fog Tengu."
Their gazes met.
The creature sneered.
"I think you're the perfect fit."
The old monk's entire spine iced over.
He clutched his chest—and two seconds later, collapsed.
Jiang Xia: "…?"
That was fast. Did he just… fake faint? He hadn't even gotten to half his lines yet.
Xiunian was stunned, too.
A few seconds later, he snapped out of it, grabbed the now-unlit candlestick like a weapon, and yelled,
"Two years ago—you killed Zhongnian?!"
The creature kind of looked like his brother. Sure, more handsome, and with actual hair, but still vaguely similar. Wait—was his brother eaten by the Fog Tengu?!
…But hang on. The old monk did just admit to killing Zhongnian. And the body wasn't missing.
And two years ago, in the confinement room where Zhongnian died, there was a huge hole in the wall. The coroner said it was caused by a strong current. But if you go by supernatural logic, it could've been smashed open by the Fog Tengu.
That said, this one didn't seem very smash-happy. Paper walls were way easier to break than stone ones, yet it still politely opened the door. Not very tengu of it.
Maybe it had evolved? Decided doors were more efficient? Or maybe it was just the chill kind of tengu that didn't care about tradition and liked to conserve energy.
Still… why was the Fog Tengu showing up now?
Was it mad the old monk had used its name to commit murder? So it came to… reclaim the brand?
Xiunian looked at the monk's collapsed body.
The old man was ghost-pale, chest unmoving, clearly no longer breathing.
Xiunian's eyes went wide with horror.
He stumbled back from the creature, shouting,
"Y-you can kill people with your mind?!"
Any murderous intent he'd built up deflated like a sad balloon.
Jiang Xia: "…"
Why are kids so dramatic these days? Clearly the old guy just had a heart attack.
Jiang Xia glanced at Xiaobai and Miyano Akemi. The two ghosts gave a thumbs-up and scurried over to collect the leftover murderous aura.
*Goal #1: Top 200 fanfics published within the last 30 days by POWER STONES.
Progress: 14/50(approx) for 10 BONUS CHAPTERS*
Glossary:
Fog Tengu – A made-up mythical creature (Japanese) used in-universe for supernatural cover-ups; part urban legend, part scapegoat.
Touching porcelain – A Chinese slang term for pretending to be hurt or victimized to gain sympathy or benefits.